


Three times tiny Kronks did their job (or maybe they didn't)

by Cuits



Category: Emperor's New Groove (2000)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuits/pseuds/Cuits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started way before Kronk even met Yzma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three times tiny Kronks did their job (or maybe they didn't)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wtb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtb/gifts).



 

 

__Kronk’s mom was the most pretty mom to ever exist. Her name was Galilahi and when she was just a little older than little Kronk himself she had travelled for years from the very far north until he arrived to his father’s village and decided to stay. She had long, black hair and dark sparkly eyes that little Kronk new were the most beautiful in the whole world. The other kids said his mom was weird, a foreigner, that she spoke funny and dressed in strange clothes but little Kronk didn’t really mind what the other kids said and when they got especially annoying he would just punch them in the face._ _

 

_“ _You shouldn’t have punched Aapeli,” his mother would say._ _

 

_“ _But mooooooom. He was being mean. And I am bigger than any of them. I can punch them in the face.”_ _

 

__Galilahi seated little Kronk in front of the house fire and with the lovely voice she used to tell the most amazing tales, she told him the story of the two wolves._ _

 

_“ _You know, Kronk, there is an eternal battle between two wolves.”_ _

 

__Little Kronk opened his eyes with amazement and expectation. “Where, mommy? where?!”_ _

 

_“ _Just right here,” she said pointing at his belly, “and here,” she said pointing at her own belly._ _

 

__Little Kronk didn’t hesitate even for a second, if his mom said they had wolves inside themselves, there was absolutely no reason to believe that that was exactly what on occasions made his belly roar._ _

 

__"Woooooaaaaaauuuu,” said little Kronk lifting up his garments to take a look at his naked belly._ _

 

_“ _There are two wolves inside of us all. One is evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego. The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.”_ _

 

_“ _There are a lot of things,” little Kronk contemplated._ _

 

_“ _Yes.”_ _

 

_“ _And they are always fighting?”_ _

 

_“ _Always.”_ _

 

_“ _Don’t they ever stop? Not even to go swimming to the waterfall pond?” he asked because Little Kronk really loved to go swimming to the waterfall pond._ _

 

_“ _No, they never stop, but sometimes the fight is hard and sanguine, and sometimes it’s more like a discussion.” Galilahi combed his hair with her soft fingers._ _

 

_“ _Like me and Aapeli?”_ _

 

_“ _Kind of. Do you want to know which wolf is the strongest?”_ _

 

_“ _Which one?” asked Kronk with avid interest._ _

 

_“ _The one you feed the most,” she said with a confident tone. “When you do bad things, you feed the evil wolf and that’s why you shouldn’t punch Aapely even if he is being mean and you are strong.”_ _

 

__That very night, when the moon was high in the sky, Little Kronk woke up to find an even smaller Kronk with wolf’s ears and a wolf’s tail, dressed with a white tunic over his right shoulder and an equally tiny Wolfy-Kronk dressed in red over his left one._ _

 

_“ _Feed me! Feed me! Feed me! Feed me!” they both said at once._ _

 

__They both looked hungry and weird with the mix of animal and human features so Kronk run out of his bed and to his sleeping mother._ _

 

_“ _Mom! Mom! Do the wolves have to look like wolves?”_ _

 

_“ _They can look however you want, love. Go back to sleep.”_ _

 

__Kronk looked at both his shoulders and with a soundless “pop” the ears and the tails of tiny Kronks disappeared._ _

 

_“ _Which one of you is the good guy?” Kronk asked them in a whisper as he went back to his bed._ _

 

_“ _I am!”_ _

 

_“ _No, no I am!”_ _

 

__Little Kronk sighed deeply and took the decision that would affect the rest of his life._ _

 

_“ _Well, I guess then, I will have to feed you both."__

 

**1.**

 

Kronk is ten years old when this unexplainable desire to pull Itzel’s pigtails appears. She is beautiful, smart and adores squirrels just like him. She loves to go swimming to the waterfall pond and never makes fun of his mom’s peculiar ways.

 

Itzel is cool. Itzel is great, and yet he feels like shoving her for no reason sometimes. That’s how he ends sitting by her side on the top of the mounthill throwing stones to the cliff just to hear the noise of them smashing against the hard rock at the bottom.

 

“Kiss her,” says the guy in white over his right shoulder. “Oh my God, she is so nice! And we like her! Kiss her!”

 

“What?! No!,” says the indignant voice over his left shoulder. “Pull her hair! she is a girl.”

 

Kronk throws another rock to the cliff and Itzel laughs at the broken, smashing sound it makes when it lands as she picks another stone.

 

“Kiss her!”

 

“Pull her hair!”

 

“Kiss her!

 

“Pull her hair!”

 

And Kronk, who never was one to respond well to pressure does the only thing that he can do: he leans in and kisses her at the same time that he pulls her hair. A second later Itzel’s face looks red with flushed anger and the stone clutched in her hand looks like a dangerous menace.

 

“Run!” say both tiny Kronks at once, “Run, run, run, run!”

 

The stone passes an inch off his head as he makes the fastest retreat ever.

 

“You are lucky to have us, boy,” says the little dude in red as he keeps running, “If you’d stayed that stone would be now embedded in your head.”

 

Little dude in white crosses his arms over his chest and solemnly nods his agreement. “He totally has a point.”

 

**2.-**

 

When Kronk reaches puberty his body simply expands. Girls and some boys start to look at him in a certain, peculiar way that he doesn’t quite understand.

 

“Maybe they want to poison us,” says devil Kronk warily as he stretches.

 

“Why would they want to poison us? I think they like us,” says good Kronk lifting tiny weights.

 

Kronk makes another set of pull ups and thinks about it. He has come to realize that exercises makes him feel good, it grounds him and helps him think. There has always been mean people around him that laughed at his foreign mom or at the way he wasn’t the smartest kid in the class but people don’t make fun of him when he exercises so that’s what he does.

 

“Why would they like us?”

 

“Because we are nice. Squirrells always say that.”

 

Kronk hears silently the conversation of the little guys and thinks they both are in really good shape so they both must be right.

 

“Maybe they want to poison us because they like us?” he offers as middle ground.

 

“Yes.”

 

“That totally makes sense.”

 

They both agree at the same time.

 

Kronk doesn’t understand people very well. He gets little children and old people and squirrels; they are all clear, honest and straightforward, but the rest? They use irony and supposedly clever figures of speech that most of the time leave him frustrated and confused.

 

“Wow Kronk. You are so brilliant,” says Aapeli with a flat tone as Kronk salutes a passing squirrel. “You really should apply for a spot in the Emperor’s guard. I’m sure you will get sooo far,”he also suggests and for no apparent reason, Itzel, clinging from Aapeli’s arm, starts to laugh.

 

Kronk looks to his left shoulder and to his right one and both Kronks shrugs without nothing to add.

 

“Well, thanks, Aapeli. I might do that.”

 

Aapeli smiles sideways in a way that reminds him of a devious jaguar and Kronk is so confused he thinks maybe he should do squats just to feel less out of place.

 

“See? They like us! We should really apply to that job,” says Good Kronk.

 

“Yes, just, don’t eat anything he offers you,” finishes the Evil one.

 

**3.-**

 

Getting on the Emperor’s guard turns out to be the best idea ever. Passing the physical requirements is as easy as eating cake, or as a matter of fact as easy as baking cake.

 

The thing with not knowing if people really like you or want to poison you is that you tend to end up cooking your own meals a lot of the time, which is precisely how Kronk ends up finishing his months of training in the guards kitchen.

 

He enjoys cooking, because as with exercise, he has a way with it and people don’t make fun of him when he present them his plates.

 

The old lady in charge of the kitchen is a bitter, small woman that teaches him everything he needs to know about the Emperor’s guard. The skin of her hands is hardened by the passing of time and the hard work, and her face is a complex labyrinth of wrinkles that never smiles. Nevertheless Kronk likes her. She has a no-nonsense policy that reminds him of his mom and her legendary skills when sharpened knives are involved are the envy of most prestigious officials.

 

“That sneaky chief of guards… he said that my avocado rolls tasted like alpaca!”

 

Kronk gasps with horror in synchrony with the little Kronks. Kechia’s avocado rolls are magnificent and should be always venerated as such.

 

“You hear me out, Kronk,” says Kechia, her voice as sharp as her knives, “never trust somebody that doesn’t appreciate good food. That is just the mark of the wicked.”

 

Over his shoulder both Kronks agree as they eat imaginary tiny rolls.

 

“I can confirm that.”

 

“Totally.”

 

And then they both disappear. They are usually not much help to him as he cooks, and distractions in the kitchen are just accidents waiting to happen so Kronk dismisses them, takes another potato and starts cutting it in a way that it resembles the face of a squirrel. “You are so wise, Kechia.”

 

She doesn't smiles but puts her hands on her hips with something like self-content. “And don’t you forget it.”

 

He follows Kechia every move as she works her knives faster than he has ever seen before and prepares lunches for the regiment with impeccable efficiency. Meanwhile he bakes his potatoes and prepares a nut and berries sauce with fried peppers to complete the plate.

 

Kechia is not even looking at what he is doing but sniffles the air and says with authority, "You need to put some garlic in that sauce. Be less wary of spices and more wary of Captains. I've seen the envy in the eyes of those old chimps when they look at you."

 

"Wow. You are so, so wise."

 

"Damn right."

 

There is a sudden pop over his right shoulder where both his tiny self appear hand in hand. They don't have tiny avocado rolls with them anymore and they look as solemn and straight-faced as Kronk has ever seen them.

 

“We have talked and reached a conclusion,” they announce in unison.

 

“Ehmm, aren’t you two supposed to be eternally at war with each other?”

 

“We were also supposed to be wolves. We adapt,” says the Kronk in red.

 

“And work out, do you want to see us work out?” adds the Kronk in white.

 

“Why would I?”

 

Kechia suddenly appears in between him and his frying pan. “Kronk! You are now in the Emperor’s guard. Less talk with your imaginary friends and more cooking!”

 

“Okay,” he says, but his tiny Kronks don’t disappear this time but instead make complementary gestures of insistence.

 

“We have decided that we must always trust old, mean women with an appreciation for food. Like Kechia. It really seems the way to go.”

 

Kronk looks at them and looks at Kechia cooking like a… Goddess… that cooks, wickedly quick and efficient.

 

“Okay,” he whispers.

 

And as it turns out, so it is.

 

 

 


End file.
